The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/A red, red Rose
For other versions of this work, see A red, red Rose (Burns).
A RED, RED ROSE.
TUNE—'WISHAW'S FAVOURITE.'
O, my luve's like a red, red rose,That's newly sprung in June:O, my luve's like the melodieThat's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,So deep in luve am I:And I will luve thee still, my dear,Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,And the rocks melt wi' the sun:I will luve thee still, my dear,While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve,And fare thee weel awhile!And I will come again, my luve,Tho' it were ten thousand mile.